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    Summary

    Viktor turns back to the window. The tree outside sways slightly in the wind. “I was just thinking about spring,” he says in lieu of moving like Jayce wants him to. He feels Jayce lean his weight against the sill.

    “What about spring?”

    Viktor gestures vaguely to his stomach, where the buttons of his shirt are starting to strain from the swell. “She’ll be born in spring, I suppose. If the midwife is right.”

    He feels Jayce still, just the slightest bit. “She?”

    “Ah…” Viktor hesitates, then shrugs. “No, I’m not sure yet. Just… feeling things out. I would love them either way.”

    Jayce’s hands find his, warm fingers curling over Viktor’s knuckles. “So would I,” he says, voice soft and reverent. “I can’t wait for spring to come.”

    A knot loosens in Viktor, and he exhales, something settling in his chest. He understands what Jayce means. I can’t wait to meet her.

    ---Jayce and Viktor's first child, and the first year of their life together.

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